


to you, I will always run

by keithsicle



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Newt Has a Crush on Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt has a secret, Thomas Has a Crush on Newt (Maze Runner), but they'll get over it, canon makes me sad so I'm making my own happy au, that's not the secret, there's a bit of tension at first, thomas and minho are on the cross-country team
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 14:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithsicle/pseuds/keithsicle
Summary: When Thomas starts at a new school in his senior year, he doesn't expect things to go his way.Joining the school's cross-country team seems like a good decision, but when it lands him in hot water with Newt, a guy he's barely had time to befriend, things might become a little bit more complicated. Thomas is sure there's more to the story, and he's determined to find out what.
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	to you, I will always run

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my attempt at writing something for the first time since October because I miss it and planning original stories takes forever. In honour of having (finally) read the maze runner series, I'm gonna start posting this fic so my soul can (sort of) heal.
> 
> Enjoy <3
> 
> P.S. character personalities are a blend of book!verse and movie!verse :)

Thomas thought he’d never have to get used to starting over. It was one thing to be ripped away from the only home he ever knew at the age of five, but it was another to give him over a decade to settle in, to make friends, to feel like he belonged—only for it all to be yanked from him once again.

Starting over at a new school was not at all what he had planned for his senior year. What was supposed to be ten months of him and his best friends staying up late watching movies only to drag themselves into school the next day, their eyes droopy and energy depleted, but smiles still plastered across their faces, was being replaced with sitting alone in the cafeteria every day, hoping no one would harp on him for being “the new kid”. It was hard enough switching schools, but doing so during the last year of high school had to be the cherry on top of the struggles of being the new kid. While everyone else had their friend groups and their mutuals, Thomas would have no one.

The day he was to start school itself was a gorgeous one. Summer wouldn’t be over for another couple of weeks, and it wasn’t going to go without one last heat wave. At seven in the morning, the sun was already making its daily climb into the sky. Thomas might have even smiled had he not been late to catch his bus.

Unfortunately, as nice of a day as it was, it was off to a very rough start. Thomas could hear the bus at the corner honking its horn, signalling to all students that it was about to take off, and if you were on this bus to get on _now_.

Rushing out the door, Thomas nearly tripped over his untied laces in a haste to catch the bus. His heart sank as he watched the doors close and the bus slowly pulled away from the curb. Had it been any other day under any other circumstance, Thomas would have accepted defeat and begun the walk to school. But today wasn’t any other circumstance. Today was his first day at a new school and there was absolutely no way he’d let it go downhill so soon.

Pushing all he’d learned about bus safety to the back of his mind, Thomas broke out into a sprint down the sidewalk. If his mother saw him being so reckless, she’d have a few choice words for him, but that didn’t matter. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and right now, Thomas had a bus to catch.

Heads turned and people jumped out of the way as Thomas tore past, slowly inching closer to the yellow bus with each passing second. He heard throwaway comments from disgruntled parents about him being reckless and irresponsible and every other negative word in the dictionary, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

The bus was only a few metres away now, he could almost touch it. For a moment, he thought he might actually do it; he might actually catch the bus and make it to school on time. He might actually have a decent first day.

He lifted his hand, starting to reach out, getting ready to bang on the side of the bus just as all those instructional videos tell you not to do, when the world was pulled out from under him. The sidewalk moved closer and closer until he collided with it, tripping over himself, tumbling as he fell. He ended up on his back, staring up at that startlingly blue sky, wondering how in the hell he got to this point. Was he really the kind of person to chase after buses now?

Thomas pushed up onto his elbows, watching defeatedly as the bus turned a corner and disappeared from sight. 

_So much for that_ , he thought.

A loud whistle caught his attention then, cutting through the quiet of the morning. Thomas swivelled his head toward the noise. He had to hold up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun’s rays as he did so. Standing across the street with his hands on his hips was a boy who looked to be about Thomas’ age. There was a grin on his face, like he was amused by the sight before him.

“I gotta say, I’ve never seen anyone run after the bus like that,” he said, voice booming. He folded his arms across his chest and nodded towards the car parked in his driveway. “Come on Greenie, I’ll give you a lift.”

• • •

The boy’s name was Minho and he’s lived across the street from Thomas’ house all his life. He grew up in the neighbourhood, like much of the other kids who went to school around there. As he put it, you’ve either never known anything outside The Glade—as the locals liked to call it—or you’re some unlucky shank who ended up here because there was nowhere else to go.

Thomas wasn’t too fond of Minho’s attitude. Though he’d offered him a ride to school after falling flat on his face, he wasn’t so sure Minho still wouldn’t make things worse for him.

He only half-listened as Minho rambled on about school and the people that went there. He was too busy thinking about how the second he tripped up—literally—someone from school had been there to see it. 

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” Minho was glancing at him every now and then from the driver’s seat.

“Hmm?” Thomas returned his gaze to Minho, guilt settling in. “Sorry, my mind’s all over the place.”

If Minho was offended, he didn’t show it. Instead, he let out a chuckle, like Thomas’ misfortune amused him. “What I was saying,” he said, “was you’re a pretty good runner. Ever think of joining the cross-country team?”

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t think I have much team spirit in me for that.”

At his old school Thomas had been part of the STEM club as well as the soccer team during his sophomore year. He liked being involved in the school community, finding comfort among people who shared similar interests. It was through the STEM club that he had spent so much time with his best friends, Aris and Teresa. They created a mountain of memories from being part of the club alone; it was one of the things he missed the most from his old life. He wasn’t so sure he was ready to start that up again just yet.

Minho shrugged. “Are you talking about that wipeout? Look, I’ll admit it was pretty hilarious, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re _fast_. And we need fast. Especially since—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

“Especially since what?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re here anyway. Time to put on your big boy pants, Greenie. It’s showtime.” Minho pulled into a parking spot a little ways from the front doors. Turning off the ignition, he grabbed his bag from the backseat and hopped out of the car.

Thomas was quick to follow, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stared at Minho over the top of the car. “What is that? What does that mean?”

“What?” Minho was already on the move.

“Why do you keep calling me Greenie?” Thomas asked as he jogged to his new friend’s side.

“That’s what we call all the new kids here.”

Thomas huffed. “Great, like I need to bring more attention to myself.”

Nudging Thomas’ shoulder, Minho smirked at him. He was definitely enjoying Thomas’ suffering, there was little doubt about it now. “Let me show you around,” he said, then disappeared inside the school doors. 

Thomas sighed, dreading the long day ahead of him. He tried to be optimistic, having already made a friend at least. Someone would show him around, help him get adjusted, and maybe Thomas would get to meet Minho’s friends. Today didn’t have to be horrible.

With that in mind, Thomas crossed the threshold into the school, the clock tethered to his new life starting now.

• • •

They only had roughly fifteen minutes for a tour before the bell rang for first period. Minho had left Thomas outside his math class, telling him to come by his table at lunch to chat some more. Before Thomas could ask anything else of him, the boy was off and running down the hall to his own class.

Thomas kept to the back of his classes, hoping to go by unnoticed as much as possible. Some people chanced a second glance at him once they realized they didn’t recognize him, but made no comment about him being new to school. It almost frustrated Thomas how invisible he actually was. He hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself for being the new kid, but seeing as not even one person—other than Minho that is—asked him if he was new, he realized that maybe deep down he craved just the slightest bit of attention.

When the bell rang for lunch Thomas made his way down the stairs to the cafeteria. It was one of the first places Minho had shown him and was pretty hard to miss, so he had no problem finding his way there. Once he got there, however, it was a different story. Rows and rows of tables filled the large space, bodies occupying nearly every one of them. He vaguely remembered Minho mentioning that he and his friends sat near the back, and began scanning the faces in that direction. It took him just under a minute to spot Minho’s tall black hair at the far back corner of the cafeteria. He quickly made his way over, doing his best not to make eye contact with anyone on the way.

“Thomas!”

Minho’s boisterous voice snapped him back to attention. He lifted his head to greet his new friend, smiling shyly at the other guys sitting around the table.

“This is the Greenie I was telling you guys about,” Minho said, slapping Thomas on the back. “Group meet Thomas, Thomas meet group.”

Thomas awkwardly sunk into the seat next to Minho, hoping he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt. “Hey,” he greeted, then cringed at the way his voice went up an octave.

The guys across the table smiled at him in greeting. The one to the far left stretched out his hand and Thomas took it. “I’m Frypan.” He smiled and leaned across the table, his face inches from Thomas’. “Word of advice, don’t eat the cafeteria food. You’ll probably get food poisoning.”

Thomas blinked at the boy in surprise as he sunk back into his seat, chuckling to himself. 

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to freak you out,” the boy next to Frypan assured Thomas. “I’m Alby, welcome to The Glade.”

“Thanks,” Thomas muttered, not sure what else to say.

Minho nudged his shoulder. “Come on, Greenie. Loosen up. The day’s almost over.”

Thomas let out an unamused laugh. “Best damn news I’ve heard all day.”

The guys laughed and returned to their previous conversation. Thomas didn’t know any of the names being mentioned, so he turned his focus to the small lunch he’d packed for himself. It was half of a sandwich and didn’t look very satisfying, but Thomas was starving and had little choice.

He took a bite out of his sandwich, waving his hand to the guys to get their attention. He swallowed his food and asked, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but is this it? Minho made it sound like he had an army of friends.”

Frypan rolled his eyes. “Not surprising. But yeah, there are. This is pretty much the main group, minus Newt. He should be coming soon, guy’s always running on his own time.”

“There’s also Winston, Zart, Clint, and Jeff, but those guys have an earlier lunch, so we don’t see them much,” Minho explained. “You’ll probably meet them at some point.”

Thomas nodded. He was relieved there weren’t as many people as he thought there’d be. The last thing he needed today was to be overwhelmed with a ton of new faces and names.

Alby let out a whistle, similar to the one Thomas heard from Minho earlier this morning. “Speak of the devil, there he is.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Thomas lifted his head to see who Alby was referring to. Headed their way was one of the other guys, Thomas assumed, and he was shaking his head at his friend. He was tall, yet his clothes appeared to hang off his frame ever so slightly, like he was stuck between two sizes. His blond hair was a stark contrast to the others’ dark hair. He walked easily through the aisle between the tables, like there wasn’t a care in the world. _He_ was a stark contrast to _Thomas_.

“Well, look at the lot of you,” he said, taking the seat next to Alby and across from Thomas. “Talking about me when I’m not even here.”

Alby pointed a finger at his friend. “Thomas, this is Newt.” He pointed his finger back at Thomas. “Newt, this is Thomas.” Then he dropped his hand and went back to eating his lunch, the moment already forgotten.

Newt flashed a smile at Thomas. “Greenie?”

Thomas folded his arms across his chest and sunk back into his chair. “I really wish everyone would stop calling me that.”

Newt leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. A strand of hair fell in front of his right eye, but he didn’t seem keen on moving it. “Alright then, _Tommy_ , where are you from?”

“Far away.”

“Funny. You a joker?”

Thomas shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Without taking his eyes off of Thomas, Newt reached over and grabbed a chip from the bag Alby had just opened. He popped the chip in his mouth, ignoring his friend’s protests. “What happened that made you such a crank?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Nothing—”

“He face planted chasing the bus this morning,” Minho interjected, a grin taking over his face. “Wish I had it on video. What a _fall_.”

Thomas whirled on Minho, eyes wide. “I thought you weren’t going to tell anyone.”

“Hey, in this group, we judge each other, _then_ love each other.”

Frypan groaned. “How many times do I have to tell you? That’s not a thing we do _or_ say! Stop making things weird.”

Minho opened his mouth to fire back when Alby cut him off, waving his hands in the air, nearly smacking Frypan and Newt in the process. “Hold up, why were you chasing the bus? Don’t you know that’s just asking to get hurt?”

“I was running late and I thought I could catch up to it,” Thomas argued, wishing he could drop the topic altogether. “Look, I almost did, I just—my shoelaces were untied and I tripped.”

Minho and Newt snickered at that, exchanging amused glances from across the table. Alby just shook his head, like Thomas’ mom might if she were to find out. Frypan, however, was ecstatic. His eyes widened and a light bulb seemed to go off in his head. “You know what, this is a good thing,” he said. “You could join the cross-country team with Minho.”

Alby was shaking his head now, sending a glare in Frypan’s direction, but it went ignored.

“Minho already mentioned it this morning. I just don’t think—” Thomas started, but was abruptly cut off by Frypan’s babbling.

“Okay, hear me out. You almost caught up to a bus, so you’re fast, right? The cross-country team _needs_ fast runners, like, now. Seriously, this school could use a pick-me-up.”

“Fry!” Alby exclaimed, finally silencing his friend. “Seriously, now’s not the time. I’m sure Thomas has had a long day and doesn’t want to think about joining a team right now.”

The two friends exchanged glances, having a silent conversation only they could understand. Thomas couldn’t figure out why the topic of cross-country was such a big deal. He appreciated Alby defending his choice, but had it really warranted such a big reaction?

He couldn’t understand, until he looked back at Newt. His body was as rigid as a statue and the smile that once tugged at his lips was now gone, like it never existed. Newt’s mood had changed drastically, and Thomas couldn’t really understand why.

He didn’t realize how long he’d been staring at Newt until the boy in question broke the silence.

“Fry’s right. The team could use a good runner.” Newt looked up from the table, staring at Thomas once again, face blank, his true feelings hidden. He couldn’t help but feel nervous under his gaze. “Maybe that’s you, Tommy.”

As quick as he’d come, Newt was up and leaving. His words lingered in the air, the only evidence that he had been sitting across from Thomas at all.

No one spoke after Newt left. Either they had nothing to say or they were too afraid to speak their minds. Thomas wasn’t sure which was the truth, but he was tired of all the questions floating around his mind. He decided against asking about Newt. That conversation was best saved for a rainy day.

When the bell rang once more, the group headed their separate ways. Thomas found himself walking side by side with Minho again as they made their way to the one class they shared. 

His last class—philosophy—was uneventful, just as the first three had been. Thomas sat through each, listening as attentively as he could, which was admittedly not very much. His mind was plagued with daydreams and questions, of what could have been and of what was. His first day had turned out to be a colossal mess in a million different ways, just as he had feared.

Minho found Thomas outside at the end of the day. He was waiting for his bus—he wouldn’t miss it this time—and was surprised to see his new friend appear yet again out of the blue.

Before Minho could say anything, Thomas intervened. “Look, dude, my bus is literally turning into the parking lot right now. Can we talk about whatever you wanna talk about tomorrow? I really don’t have the energy to chase another bus today.”

Minho nodded furiously, words falling out of his mouth the second Thomas finished speaking. “Forget about what happened at lunch, alright? You’re one of the best damn runners I’ve seen since. . . since forever.” He paused to take a breath, then continued. “I can tell you don’t like it here, trust me, a lot of us don’t either. But you need _something_. And the team could really benefit from a shank like you. Tryouts are Friday. Be there.”

He gave Thomas no time to answer before he was walking off in the opposite direction. Thomas stood frozen for a second, unsure what to think. Remembering his bus, he scrambled on and took a seat. The thoughts resumed instantly and didn’t leave even when he was finally home, away from his horrible new school.

• • •

As he crawled into bed that night, Thomas lay staring at the ceiling, trying to comprehend all that had happened in under twenty-four hours. He had chased a bus, fell flat on his face in front of a new friend, made more friends, and then possibly lost one in the span of five minutes, and on more than one occasion considered joining a team.

It wasn’t a totally absurd idea, Thomas joining the cross-country team. He enjoyed running, loved the feeling of wind against his face as he ran. It was freeing, and it could be a good distraction from everything else going on in his life. He needed something to take his mind off the move and the fact that his new friends were not at all like Aris and Teresa, and he didn’t even _mind_. 

He could try out for the team, it wouldn’t hurt. If he didn’t make it, that would be fine. He was getting pretty used to being let down anyway.

With this decision in mind, Thomas turned onto his side, expecting sleep to come easier now and feeling disappointed when it didn’t. Try as he might, there was still something—or rather _someone_ —on his mind.

Newt.

Thomas knew Newt for all of five minutes and he couldn’t get the guy off his mind. He had been captivated by the way he waltzed into the cafeteria and over to their table, probably carefree unlike Thomas. He had seemed genuinely nice—and maybe a little sarcastic, but _nice_ . And then he’d done a one-eighty right in front of him, and suddenly it had seemed like Newt wasn’t very interested in Thomas. It was confusing and Thomas wasn’t sure whether or not to be offended. Was it really such a big deal if _one_ person didn’t want to be his friend?

He tossed and turned for a while longer, beginning to feel restless and agitated. With no better ideas in mind, Thomas made one more decision that night.

“I’ll find out what Newt’s story is,” he whispered to himself. 

Sure enough, he fell asleep moments later.

**Author's Note:**

> So the first 2-3 chapters are kind of short, but they'll start to pick up as the story moves along and things are established and whatnot.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I will admit it's not the greatest first chapter to exist, but you gotta start somewhere. These characters are really intimidating to write since I'm not as familiar with them as I am with other characters, but I hope I do them justice with this fic!
> 
> I also don't have a schedule for posting so new chapters will come out whenever I find the time, but hopefully it won't take me too long to complete this fic :')
> 
> Feel free to send me messages or asks about anything on tumblr ([@kiiinz](https://kiiinz.tumblr.com/))!


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